


Cold Day In Berlin

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Vampires in Berlin (aka Ramm-pires in Berlin) [11]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Sexual Content, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two vampires, their band-mates and a blast from the past</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Latest instalment of my Ramm-pires in Berlin series; I did actually write this a few months ago, yet decided to post another couple of stories first instead, to flesh out the time-line a little. (I'm a pernickety sod like that.) 
> 
> Completely off-topic, I know, but as a fan of Motörhead, I just wanted to pay my respects and say ... R.I.P Lemmy Kilmister. He'll be greatly missed, by me and by many.

[ ](http://s1368.photobucket.com/user/paulchen2/media/cold%20day%20in%20berlin_zpszd1whfkr.jpg.html)

****

  
_“The gates are mine to open,_  
_As the gates are mine to close,_  
_And I set my house in order,”_  
_Said our Lady of the Snows._

**Our Lady of the Snows** by Rudyard Kipling. 

Richard stood by the window of the living room he shared with Paul, watching as the rain poured down from dark Berlin skies onto nighttime Berlin streets, lit in patches by streetlights and passing vehicles. He could hear the force of each droplet hitting against the window-pane, impacting and running down and creating music of its very own; they seemed to sparkle and catch the light that shone from behind him, even though the light was set to dim. Ever since he’d been vampirically changed, he’d noticed how things seemed clearer, eyesight sharper and his hearing more acute; whilst that had taken some getting used to, he found that it wasn’t as scary or as disconcerting as it might once have been.

 

He sighed and pressed his forehead against the glass; Richard felt the coldness of it against his skin, but it didn’t bother him as it would have when he’d still been human. The glass didn’t fog with the remnants of his breath either, clouds of moisture obscuring his view and having to be wiped away as it would have once done. 

 

Somewhere in the apartment behind him, he could hear Paul singing in the shower, familiar deep voice echoing queerly from the tiled walls in the shower cubicle and the hefty splashing sounds the other vampire made as he scrubbed soap and shampoo into skin and hair alike. Just hearing Paul doing something ordinary and mundane made Richard laugh to himself, a little, glad for the grounding sounds of normality to off-set the darkness of his thoughts. Even that small reminder that Paul was there, albeit in a different room and engaged in his own activities for a while made Richard feel better; it was a very physical, and noisy, reminder that he wasn’t alone, no matter how badly and how dark he felt. 

 

Richard was still standing at the window when Paul joined him five minutes later, smelling strongly of apple shampoo and the fruity scent of their shower soap. Beneath the fruity scents, Richard could smell Paul, that familiar gentle musk that Richard always loved; he smiled when Paul pressed up against him, cheek resting gently against his shoulder as the other vampire slipped both arms around his waist.

 

“What’s the matter, lover?” Paul asked, and his voice sounded wary, almost sad with the question. “I can smell sadness on you.” 

 

“I’m okay,” Richard said, trying to shrug it off both verbally and physically, yet Paul wasn’t easily deterred nor fooled.

 

He never was. 

 

“No you’re not, Reesh,” Paul said, as he pressed a kiss against Richard's cheek, that one brief gesture tender, almost heartbreakingly so.

 

Richard sighed and closed his eyes; he leant into Paul’s touch, eyes still closed, and allowed the other vampire to press wet kisses against his mouth. He allowed Paul to prise open his lips with his tongue, to plunge inside, to stroke his fangs with the teasing tip of his tongue. Richard groaned at that, and shuddered against Paul’s body in sudden pleasure, as the beginnings of arousal stirred in his belly. He always enjoyed it when Paul played with his fangs, teased the tip of his tongue over and around their sharp, hard edges, unafraid of getting cut or drawing blood. Oftentimes, he felt the spill of Paul’s blood against his tongue and he swallowed it, as though the droplets were an offering meant solely for him and perhaps they were, as though Paul had meant to give something of himself for Richard to take, to claim for his own. That time was no different and Richard tasted the spill of Paul's blood leaking down his throat, even as he felt the brush of Paul's hand against his cock, rubbing at the front of his trousers as though he was trying to coax him into speaking, to moaning, anything except stand there in silence.

 

“Paulie,” Richard said, as he turned his face further into Paul’s embrace, pressed his nose against the place where Paul's pulse had once throbbed, yet throbbed no more.

 

His skin was dead, cold and as still as his heart was, yet Richard could still feel undead life in his lover’s body, strong and magical and ineffably there. 

 

“Oh, Paul,” Richard said, voice almost lost to the strong curve of Paul’s throat. 

 

“What is it, darling?” Paul asked, as he stroked his free hand down the curve of Richard’s back, swept his fingers in lingering dances over Richard’s butt before he grabbed a firm hold and squeezed gently.

 

Richard sighed and nestled still closer into Paul’s embrace, hands bunching in the back of his shirt as he inhaled the scents of Paul’s clean skin and his hair. His fangs grazed against Paul’s throat, hard enough to be noticed yet not hard enough to actually break skin and spill the blood that Paul still retained in his body that was his very own. 

 

“I love you,” Richard said. “So much.”

 

“Oh, Richard, honestly,” Paul said, but though he was laughing, there was a sad, touched aspect to his tone that made Richard nuzzle against him again. “I love you, too, but what is all this about? What's wrong? What have I done?”

 

“Nothing,” Richard said, finally arching away to stare at Paul at close range. “You've done nothing, nothing wrong, anyway.” 

 

“Then what is it? You’re being baffling,” Paul said, as he stared at Richard, eyes blown wide with his concern and the underlying trapping of lust.

 

“It’ll be our one year anniversary, soon,” Richard said. “Of being changed.”

 

He gestured towards his fangs with a sigh.

 

“Is this what this is about?” Paul asked, and though his tone was light, his meaning wasn’t.

 

His eyes had taken on a grave cast, and his body was not quite as soft and as yielding against Richard's. Richard reached for him, as though frightened that Paul would draw away and that he would lose him, but Paul made no indication at all that he was going to step away. Instead, he reached up and rested one hand against Richard’s cheek and rubbed one thumb over Richard’s lower lip, dragging soft flesh in its wake and back again. 

 

“Are you so worried about it?” Paul asked, and it was concern that Richard read in his stiff body, not disgust as he’d first imagined. 

 

“Yeah,” Richard said, albeit reluctantly.

 

“Why?” Paul asked, but it was a genuine question, not a loaded one filled with mocking or perhaps sarcasm. 

 

“The world’s changing around us and we’re not; we never will,” Richard said, softly. “Doesn’t that frighten you?”

 

“In a word? Truthfully? Yes,” Paul admitted, without once taking his eyes from Richard’s. “But there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening, any more than I can stop the moon from rising. We’ve got each other, haven’t we? It’d be far worse if one or other of us was going through this alone. I’m here. I always will be.”

 

Paul smiled slightly then, misty-blue eyes suddenly warm and crinkled around the edges. Richard reached up and ran light fingers over the wrinkles that still fanned from the corners of his lover’s eyes, and the grey hairs that still streaked from Paul’s temples. Richard sighed and thought that no matter what else changed, some things never did. Paul would always look the way that he looked in that moment, never aging, never changing, always looking the same. He traced the contours of Paul’s face slowly, surprised when Paul allowed the explorations, even though the other vampire was obviously baffled by it. 

 

’You’re gorgeous,” Richard said, with a wondering smile.

 

“And you’ve only just noticed this, now, Richard?” Paul asked, but he was teasing, smile curving his lips and warming his eyes as he stared at Richard. 

 

Richard sighed and tried his hardest not to smile, yet he failed. He never could be morose for very long with Paul around, nor could he ever keep a smile far from his face. He wondered if that was one of the reasons why he loved the other vampire so much, in that he was the lightness to Richard’s dark. Paul sighed, and the sudden gust of breath where previously there'd been none was as startling as it ever was. 

 

“I know,” Paul said, before Richard could potentially embarrass himself with revealing what he’d been thinking. 

 

Paul smiled then, a slow sad smile that still made the skin wrinkle around his eyes, as his fingers explored the curve of Richard’s lips, and the hardness of his fangs beneath. Richard knew that Paul had read all of his thoughts, every single last intent in his eyes and so had saved him from embarrassment. He kissed the tips of his lover’s fingers, before he buried his face against Paul’s neck again. They merely stood there, in each other's arms for a while, listening to the rain coming down outside and plashing against the window. Paul was the first to break the silence. 

 

“A whole year, huh?” he asked, quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Richard replied, his voice almost swallowed by the curve of Paul's throat.

 

“Fuck,” Paul sighed. “Amazing how quickly the time goes.” 

 

“Yeah,” Richard repeated. 

 

“Wonder what Bob’s doing now?” Paul asked, and his seemingly idle question transported Richard's mind back to Bob Adams, the producer that had worked on Rammstein’s last album the previous year.

 

It had been Bob’s brother that had first changed them the year before, whilst they’d still been working on laying down tracks in the mountains of Austria. That one brief moment had changed their lives forever and those of their bandmates. 

 

“I don’t know,” Richard replied. “Probably trying not to think of us.” 

 

“I suppose,” Paul huffed, with a slow smile. 

 

It had been because of Rammstein that Bob had had to shoot his own brother, to save others from being potentially turned into vampires, as Richard and Paul had, as countless, still unknown, others had in the past. Paul was silent, and he was watching Richard again. Then he spoke.

 

“D’you wanna do something?” he asked. “For our first year anniversary?” 

 

“Like what?” Richard asked, with a sudden laugh. 

 

“I dunno,” Paul said, with a shrug. “Celebrate somehow.”

 

“I dunno. I dunno if I really want to, Paul,” Richard said, morosely. “Doesn’t seem right somehow.” 

 

Paul tilted his head towards Richard, but didn’t immediately speak. It was as though he was waiting for Richard to come to a decision on his own, without pressure from him. Richard wasn’t sure what exactly he was waiting for, or what he even had in mind. He sighed before he caved and asked the obvious. 

 

“What? What have you got in mind, Paul?” he asked, without real rancour. 

 

“We don’t have to do much. I wasn’t thinking of the whole bells and whistles, lets have a party and a gang-bang thing. Unless you really want that, of course,” Paul said., with a sudden smirk.

 

That surprised a laugh out of Richard, at least.

 

“No, I can do without all of that, thanks, Paulchen,” he said.

 

“Good, because so can I. I was thinking of something more private than that, and cosy. A private evening in,” Paul said, with a smile which grew wider and more dirty as the seconds ticked away. 

 

“Oh? Now, this I can get behind,” Richard said, with a nod. 

 

“Good,” Paul replied. “I’ll start planning a little surprise, then, for next week.”

 

“Nothing too horrible, Paul,” Richard said, with a groan.

 

“Oh, it won’t be, I can assure you. The pleasure will be all mine, and yours, if you’re lucky,” Paul said, with a smile, and a slow, and surprisingly dirty, wink.

 

Richard laughed again at that, a sound that was soon captured by Paul’s mouth, as the other vampire pressed kisses against his lips, stealing his thoughts as well as his laughter. Richard sighed and allowed the other vampire to direct his kisses and his steps back to the bedroom, his lover’s hands heavy and insistent upon his body; Richard felt sudden interest and arousal beginning to stir in his body, despite his earlier moroseness, as the layers of his clothing were stripped away by eager hands, Paul’s eyes as quick and as interested as his fingers. 

 

Richard sighed out his lover’s name as he climbed onto the bed, waiting for Paul to join him; Paul did so after he’d retrieved the lube from beneath the bed, where it had fallen from their exploits from the night before. Paul quirked his eyebrows at Richard as he began stripping off, skin revealed to the dim light in the bedroom. He joined the other vampire beneath the covers and began preparing his lover, fingers dipping and curling and stretching until Richard was fully prepared. Paul settled himself atop the other vampire, and guided himself inside his lover with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. He waited until Richard had adjusted to him before he began thrusting, hips moving against hips, hands gripping and twisting skin, sounds muffled by pillows and the soft curve of a shoulder. 

 

Richard was the first to climax, release moaned out into the dark recesses of the night, and Paul followed soon after, breath shuddering out in needy groans as clutching fingers groped at Richard's body. They lay still after a while, before Paul rolled away to lay beside Richard, hand reaching up to toy with dislodged strands of the other vampire’s dark hair. Richard smiled, eyes heavy-lidded and still dark with his sated lust; he reached up and curled his fingers around Paul’s wrist, but he didn’t stop the other vampire from touching him, caressing him, running fingers through his hair. He sighed, and the sound was contented and slight, soon echoed by Paul. 

 

“I’m in a wet patch, Paul,” Richard finally pointed out, smile curving his lips, even as his tongue poked out between the curve of his fangs in a show of disgust.

 

“Well, move,” Paul said, with an amused snort. 

 

“Too lazy,” Richard said, with a vague grimace that was more aimed at himself than at the wet patch.

 

“Stop complaining then,” Paul said, even as he rolled partially away, fingers stilling and coming to rest in Richard's hair. “It’s late. We need to feed.” 

 

“Nmmm-hmmm,” Richard agreed, head bobbing against Paul's palm in a nod. “Shower first. And I know you’ve just had one, before you start.” 

 

“I wasn’t gonna say a thing,” Paul insisted, but his words, his tone, his face was filled with laughter and amusement. 

 

“Shut up,” Richard said, as he leant in to press a kiss against Paul's mouth.

 

That kiss effectively silenced Paul quicker than any words could, mouth soon moving against Richard's own, tongue lapping at fangs and at tongue eagerly, as groans leaked past the seam of Paul’s lips. He finally eased away and slapped at Richard's bare butt until the other vampire rolled away and out of bed with a wearied groan. Paul smiled and watched the flex and play of muscles sliding beneath Richard's skin, before he too stood, when Richard stopped by his side of the bed and waited for the other vampire to join him. They took their clothes for the night into the bathroom, which were then draped upon the hook on the back of the door, as they stepped within the shower cubicle together, hands exploring each other’s bodies as they did so.

****


	2. Chapter 2

It still was raining as they took to the streets later that night and the scent of fresh rain was in the air, heavy and redolent, washing the streets clean. Richard huddled beneath the umbrella that he held above his head, as he waited for Paul to stop staring at their surroundings, a contented expression upon the smaller vampire’s face. 

“Only one more week to go, Reesh,” Paul observed, breaking into Richard’s still morose thoughts.

“What?” Richard asked, as he turned his face to Paul’s again.

“One more week. Until the premiere,” Paul reminded him, a roll of his eyes denoting the fact that he thought that Richard was being particularly dense that evening, or perhaps distracted. 

Richard nodded, but still didn’t react in the way that Paul had expected him to, or wanted him to, with a smile, perhaps, or even a feigned excited epithet for Paul's benefit. The following week, was the premiere of Rammstein’s latest filmic effort, with choice cuts from their documentary being shown at Kino International. Ordinarily, Richard was always the one to get the most excited about such events; he always looked forward to schmoozing with the crowd and charming the pants off everyone, yet Paul knew that he alone could literally be charmed into losing his pants entirely, a fact which he told Richard then. Richard laughed, at least, sudden deep and joyful chuckles breaking the air before him, causing deep wrinkles to fan out from his eyes, and the eyes to close completely beneath the force of the larger vampire’s laughter. Paul’s comment, cheeky aside though it was, earned him a warm and lingering kiss, with Richard's arm wrapped solidly around Paul’s waist for his efforts.

They set off through rain-streaked streets without need for further words or ruminations; Richard's head was bowed still, profile illuminated by the passing cars in brilliant flashes of light. Paul couldn’t keep his eyes from his lover for long. He looked noble, somehow, in that light, brooding and definitely troubled, and almost heartbreakingly sad. Paul sighed and reached out with one hand; he wrapped it around his lover’s but didn't speak. He didn’t need to, when every word that he could have said had been spoken already, by him, and to repeat them now would be trite and possibly unwanted. Richard seemed to know just what Paul wanted to convey, of his solidarity, or his unwavering belief and love in Richard, of his unspoken support for whatever Richard needed in one small gesture. Richard nodded, gave a flicker of a smile, knife-edge thin and just as quick, but there all the same. He even showed fang, which made Paul grin in return. 

Sometimes, it was easy to forget with Richard just how much of a vampire he really was; the other vampire could go weeks without a smile, face naturally dark and brooding and yet that grin would suddenly break through, bright and sunny and there they were, fangs, a constant reminder of everything that Richard now was. Paul couldn’t help but wonder what Richard saw when the other vampire looked upon him, and thought it best not to ask, even though he didn’t quite know why.

****

They caught their meal that night near the very cinema they would be visiting a week later, hands grappling and fumbling in the darkness over slick-wet-shining macs, teeth sinking hungrily into soft flesh as bright red blood, dark and glistening as roses, welled forth and was drunk greedily. 

Richard and Paul began their walk back to their flat, sated and full, stomachs comfortable beneath the weight of the blood that they’d supped. Richard felt a little brighter than he had earlier in the evening as though some of the fog of depression that sometimes hovered just out of reach yet there all the same, had lifted for a while. He glanced at Paul, almost expecting the other vampire to perhaps splash through the puddles, yet he didn’t. Instead he merely strolled, one arm looped comfortably through Richard's, a heavy familiar line against him. Paul was relaxed, and visibly contented, yet then again, he rarely ever was angry, or upset; Richard, however, knew from experience that Paul had a hell of a temper when he got going. Richard was merely thankful that that temper was rarely fixated upon him, and the fireworks of Paul’s temper often radiating to land somewhere else. 

Paul was smiling again, face relaxed and mouth curved gently, eyes a little hazy and unfocussed, as though the other vampire was not truly seeing where he was going, more focussed upon his internal monologue instead. Richard always loved looking at Paul in repose, at how relaxed and happy Paul mostly looked, even though sometimes that grin, that laugh, that ever-present joke might be a facade, a natural defense to stop those who wished to do so from getting at him. His eyes always seemed to hold a smile, and almost always were softly kind. Richard wondered if perhaps Paul wasn’t stronger than he was, for all his slighter build and smaller stature; sheer force of will alone made up for a lot. Paul noticed that Richard was watching him, but he didn’t say anything, despite the fact that he turned a relaxed smile upon Richard. They merely continued walking in silence and contentment.

****

Their answering machine was flashing when they slammed the door closed to their apartment, effectively cutting the night out behind thick doors and thicker curtains, and the comforts of home surrounded them once more. Richard sighed and leant up against the wall, and immediately received a swat to the arm from Paul.

‘Hang up your damned coat, you uncouth animal,” Paul said, with an attempt at a frown, even as he shrugged out of his own coat.

“Yes, Mrs Kruspe, whatever you say, Mrs Kruspe,” Richard couldn’t help but say.

“Mrs Kruspe?” Paul asked, miming hurt shock at that. “And what makes you think I’m the girl of the relationship, all of a sudden? You could be Mrs Landers, you know.”

Richard laughed and shrugged his way silently out of his coat and hung it up beside Paul’s on the coat rack. 

“Well, you are the more soft and romantic one, Paul,” Richard said, before he struck what he hoped was a manly, body-builder’s pose. “Not me. I’m all man.” 

Paul’s laughter was sudden, and infectious, and Richard was laughing himself as Paul replied.

“That’s bollocks, Reesh,” he said. “You’re just as soppy as I am, when you get going.”

“When I get going,” Richard repeated, with a harsh snort of laughter. “I do try, y’know.” 

“And you mostly succeed; don’t worry, darling,” Paul pointed out, as he pressed a soft kiss against the end of Richard’s nose.

“Anyway, it looks like we’ve got a message,” Richard pointed out as he stopped at the hallway table, to jab his finger at the answer-phone. “Might be one of the others.”

“At this time of night?” Paul asked as he checked the clock hanging on the wall.

He shrugged, whilst it was still late - after midnight - it was not unheard of for one of the others to perhaps still be up at that late hour. 

“Besides they have our mobile numbers; they would have contacted us that way, rather than the old-fashioned way, if they couldn't get through,” Paul said, as he jabbed his finger over his shoulder as he made his way into the living room.

“Hmm,” Richard grunted as he played the message from the beginning.

There wasn’t much to it; at first, it sounded as though whoever was calling was doing so from a pay-phone, judging by the amount of background noise that dominated the recording. Richard waited for whoever it was to speak, but no voice, no words, no message ever came. All he could hear was the sound of someone breathing heavily on the other end, in such a way as though it denoted great difficulty or someone was aiming to be particularly ominous. 

“Sounds like we’ve got a mouth breather,” Paul said, from where he’d returned to the living room doorway again.

He looked amused, and not particularly alarmed by the message. The recording ended soon after Paul’s comment, without the person on the other end ever leaving a message at all. 

“That’s very weird,” Richard muttered, as he played the message through a second, and a third time. 

“Perhaps it was just a wrong number, Reesh,” Paul said, with a shrug, as he turned away, obviously having already consigned the weird message to the past. “Are you gonna come and sit down and snuggle with me for a while? I wanna be held and comforted by a big strong vampire man. Please. Reesh.” 

These last were directed to Richard when he didn’t immediately move. Richard roused himself with an effort, before he finally trooped into the living room with Paul, to settle on the sofa and to cuddle up with him against soft and cosy cushions whilst they watched a film.

****


	3. Chapter 3

The following evening, Paul seemed a little muted and distracted as they made their way through Berlin streets; Richard thought that it was the rain, perhaps, still streaming from darkened night skies that was affecting his partner’s mood, yet the other vampire had been as happy as he ever was whilst in their apartment. His muted mood hadn’t started until they’d left Frankfurter Allee and made their way across Alexanderplatz, rain hitting and bouncing against the concrete and tarmac alike, keeping all but the hardiest and the hungriest indoors. Every so often, Paul would shudder, and cast an uneasy glance over one shoulder, and that was when Richard began to notice it, too, an odd shuffle as of large padded feet connecting with the concrete slabs of the pavement; quiet, yet not quiet enough to escape the sharp ears of a vampire. 

Richard turned, every sense on the alert and he almost shouted out to whoever was following them, when Paul’s hand clamped down on his forearm, fingers squeezing and massaging out a warning. Richard turned back to his lover, with a silent question in his eyes and the tilt of his head, a question that he did not voice aloud; the look in Paul’s eyes killed any words that he might have had, anyway and the head-shake that Paul gave him was sharp, and urgent, mouth puckered into an almost kissable pout that Richard couldn’t help but stare longingly at. At Richard’s prolonged stare, Paul laughed, suddenly, fangs glinting in the darkness, with that one joyful, deep sound, and he guided Richard out of potential collision with a lamp-post.

“Watch where you’re going, lover; don’t look at me,” he said, mildly, but his laughter still simmered beneath his words, all the same. 

“You shouldn't be so bloody distracting, then,” Richard said, just as mildly. “What d‘you think it is, anyway?” 

He gestured behind them with one hand, and didn't elaborate on what he was referring to. 

“Dunno. Something behind us,” Paul said, voice pitched low, too quiet for anyone but a vampire to hear. 

“Obviously. Dog, perhaps?” Richard asked.

“Too big,” Paul said, with a troubled frown. “I think.”

“Werewolf?” Richard tried, only partly teasing. 

Paul gave him an alarmed and wide-eyed stare at that, as though the other vampire hadn’t thought of that explanation yet. 

“A werewolf? D’you think?” Paul asked, his voice a little spiky with alarm, and infinitely louder than it previously had been. 

Richard shushed him, even as they swung onto first Unter Den Linden and later Friedrichstraße and wound their way past shops and restaurants, idly looking into windows and doorways alike as they walked. 

“If we exist, why can’t they?” Richard pointed out, returning to the subject of werewolves. 

“But here? Now?” Paul asked. “I’m sure we would have seen it before now, if there were any.” 

“Perhaps it’s new,” Richard said. “Newly made, or newly moved here; whatever.”

“Hummm,” Paul said, with a nod and a following shrug. “Makes sense.”

Richard nodded, but didn’t otherwise say anything; instead, he continued listening as they strolled as nonchalantly as they could down the length of Friedrichstraße, yet the footsteps they’d heard behind them earlier had disappeared. All they could hear now was the sound of the rain hitting upon Richard's umbrella, and the sound of late night party-goers, and humans looking for a bite to eat. In time, Richard felt Paul relaxing beside him, before the smaller vampire reached out and nodded towards a couple standing alone on a street corner. Fangs flashed in the light in a sudden grin of hope, and Richard could smell Paul’s hunger upon the other vampire’s skin. Richard nodded in turn before they approached the unsuspecting couple, to hypnotise them and lead them down a nearby alley to feed.

****

Olli walked alone along Unter Den Linden; the rain pounded down all around him, shushing through the trees that lined each side of the street, and shimmering against the puddles that had long since formed against asphalt and concrete alike. He made his way onto the Straße des 17. Juni, and made his way from there to the Zoologischer Garten; his camera seemed a heavy weight against his chest where he had it looped around his neck. He’d been planning on taking photos of the jaguars, and lions, fascinated by the powerful beauty of the great predatorial cats, wanting to capture the powerful lines of their sleek bodies as they paced and lolled about their enclosures. 

There wasn’t much to see when he got there however; the lions and the jaguars seemed to want to do little more than to loll and sleep beneath shelter, bodies prone and lax against the ground, and hardly any of them seemingly wanted to move. Disappointed, he turned away and wandered aimlessly through the rest of the zoo, aiming his lens instead towards the antelopes, the giraffes and the reindeer. They, at least, seemed undeterred by the rain and did a little more than the big cats did. 

He wandered from there out to the Tiergarten and wandered in rainy solitude beneath the trees, trying not to step too much upon the sloppy ground that covered the majority of the green area, glad for the shade of the trees for the most part. He smiled and nodded politely to other people walking through the Tiergarten, if they happened to catch one another’s eye, but he said nothing, stepped quickly out of their path, not wishing to engage in idle chit-chat with anyone that day. He wanted his solitude, to think, to ruminate, to simply _be_ without the bother of trying to drum up idle conversation; he’d never been one to be good at small talk, unlike Paul, or Richard, who could be garrulous and endlessly friendly even at the oddest of times. Olli envied them that, and he had to smile when he thought of the vampires; they seemed the perfect match, and seemed more than content with one another. He found that refreshing, and for all their new differences to the rest of the band, he was glad that they had each other, to help each other with their changes. 

Again, he wondered what it would be like to be a vampire, to forever be trapped beneath the wings of the night, to crave blood, to be ruled by it, to slide fangs into willing flesh, to know almost endless strength and supernatural powers; he wasn’t even aware just how much the vampires experienced more than the rest of them. He felt a stab of guilt that he’d never once asked, what the vampires’ hearing was like, whether they could see any better than them, what their sense of smell was like, whether there were any other benefits to the change that they’d noticed. He wondered if they would mind answering at least some of his questions, whether they wouldn’t think them too invasive; then again, he thought that perhaps they would welcome the questions, be glad to answer them, thrilled that at last someone was taking interest in them. He resolved to ask them something the next time that he saw them. 

He was so deep in thought that he nearly missed the sensation of being followed until he’d almost swung out of the Tiergarten, through the impressive arches of the Brandenburger Tor, and back into the pell-mell life normal to Berlin. He stumbled slightly, a sudden feeling of dread leaching past his previously all-consuming thoughts, and he turned, slowing his steps so that he wouldn’t stumble and fall if he caught a shin, or stub a toe against an unexpected obstacle. The feeling of dread grew stronger still, like a wave of fear passing over him, and Olli shuddered, an involuntary grimace twisting his features momentarily, as his dark eyes scanned the trees benching him. The fear grew stronger, more potent, and he stumbled away with a cry. A passing man stopped momentarily, to stare at Olli curiously.

“Are you well?” the stranger asked, looking as though he wasn’t sure whether Olli would be dangerous or not.

Olli was used to that, given his sheer size, and obvious wiry strength that ran through his body; many people had the mistaken assumption that he could be mean if he wanted, until, that was, they got to know him. Then, they swiftly changed their mind, knowing him to be the very epitome of shy gentleness. 

“I am fine. Thank you,” Olli said, quietly, with a brave attempt at a placating smile. “I just thought I heard something behind me. Probably was nothing but the wind in the trees. Or something.”

He shrugged in embarrassment and was surprised into a smile when the other man laughed and nodded.

“Sometimes the wind can produce the queerest of sounds,” he agreed. “Well, just so long as you’re alright.”

“Yes. I am. Thank you,” Olli assured him and waited for the other man to move on before he continued himself. 

By the time he turned his attentions back to the trees behind him, he realised that the sense of fear had all but leached away, almost as though it had never been at all. He relaxed a little , but not entirely; he thought that it had been an odd thing to experience, and couldn’t have merely stemmed from his own imagination. It seemed too real, too malignant to have been conjured up by thought alone. He’d seen too many weird things since Richard and Paul’s vampiric transformation to question the validity of something else that appeared weird.

Briefly he thought he saw movement in the trees, large and bulky and lumbering; he squinted and tried to focus on what he’d seen, but the movement, whatever it had been, had stopped for now. Olli traced his steps a few paces back, and squinted again; involuntarily he raised his hands, uncapped his camera and aimed the entire thing towards the trees. He waited breathlessly and when the movements came again, he took as many shots as he could, even though he had no time to process the images in his own head let alone anywhere else. 

When the movements had gone and the trees lay too still to reveal anything more that night, he turned away, determined to hurry home and to investigate the photos that he’d taken post-haste. The return trip seemed to take Olli longer than expected, impatience slowing his steps yet he finally reached the sanctuary of his apartment. Almost as soon as he’d slammed the door shut behind him, he made his way to his computer; he switched it on and waited for it to boot up, whilst he searched for his USB cable. As soon as the computer was glowing, background a familiar scene of Berlin, Olli hooked his camera up to it and navigated through the thumbnails on the onboard memory, until he’d found the series of photos he’d taken earlier in the night. He didn’t spend much time in examining the photos in the Zoologischer Garten; instead, he focussed on the ones he’d taken whilst in the Tiergarten. Although the photos were grainy and blurry at best, there still was enough exposure to alarm Olli at what he saw.

****


	4. Chapter 4

****

Paul could hear Richard in the living room, strumming at an acoustic guitar, and the low murmur of Richard's voice as the other vampire hummed and sang to himself; Paul had to smile at the oddly comforted feeling that the sounds gave him. It was a new melody, freshly composed that night and not something that Richard had been toiling over for the past few weeks, as he had with other tunes that Paul had heard in recent days. This one was low and melodic, oddly haunting and almost sad; Paul stood in the hallway to listen, closing his eyes to savour the mood of the melody, even though he didn’t yet know the words. It sounded as though Richard was trying to form lyrics to fit the melody and the flow of the song, for the odd word was thrown in, mingled with curses, when they wouldn’t fit or flow properly. Paul could smell Richard's frustration, and growing annoyance, clinging to his lover's skin. Paul sighed and knew that the other vampire always gave himself a hard time whilst writing and composing, and Paul knew something of that frustration when the words refused to come, the lyrics refused to form, and the chords sounded odd and discordant, jarring when played one against the other.

He sighed again and slipped away, determined to allow his lover a little more time alone to work over the problem at his own pace, whilst Paul puttered about the apartment, sorting out the laundry, freshly cleaned and smelling of fresh linen and soap. He inhaled; he always had enjoyed the aroma of fresh washing, yet liked it a little better when clothes retained the scent of Richard, a smell that was familiar and loved. He huffed at the stupid sappy bent his thoughts were taking, and began folding the towels into rough shapes, ready to bundle into the bathroom cabinet. Richard had always been better at folding than Paul ever had been, and Paul chuckled when he thought of the amount of times that Richard had complained about the state of the fresh linen, at the untidy heaps and piles that Paul made in drawers and cupboards alike. Paul had never seen the necessity of it; as long as the laundry was away and in its correct places, what did it matter if they were properly folded or not? 

He passed the front door on his way through to the kitchen; the last load had dried and he’d heard the beeping of the tumble dryer announcing the end of its cycle. As such, he was on hand to hear the odd snuffling at the door, as of something sniffing and inhaling on the other side of the wooden barrier. Paul stopped in his tracks, back rigid and hands splayed stiffly at his sides, expectant of a fight perhaps, and a sudden need to defend his territory from all comers came over him. 

“Hallo?” he called, wondering if perhaps they’d had an unexpected visitor.

The sniffing stopped and so did Richard’s strumming.

“Paulchen?” Richard called, in baffled confusion. “You alright?”

“Someone's at the door,” Paul called back, not bothering to hide the fact that he was there and talking.

Whoever was on the other side had undoubtedly heard him by now, anyway. 

“Well, let them in,” Richard said, a sudden clear laugh in his voice even as Paul heard the soft chime of the guitar being set aside and the slight thumps of Richard's feet against the carpet, that was audible only to him. 

Paul and Richard both walked quieter than they had in their human form, often surprising other members of the band with their near-silent approach. Nothing could escape the keen ears of a vampire, however.

“We’re not expecting anyone, least of all at three in the morning,” Paul pointed out, with a soft snort, as Richard poked his head through the now open doorway of the living room. 

“Well? Don’t you want to still see what they want? Perhaps they’re lost,” Richard pointed out. 

“Maybe,“ Paul said, but he sounded unconvinced even to his own ears. 

Richard waited in the doorway to the living room, even as Paul closed the distance between where he still stood and the doorway, before he unlocked it and opened it. He thought he heard a soft scurrying of footsteps running lightly down the corridor, but by the time that the door was fully opened and Paul had stuck his head out into the corridor, whoever had been there was gone. 

“No one there, now,” Paul said, as he stepped fully out into the corridor. 

Richard had followed him and now stood within the doorway’s confines, hands shoved deeply into his pockets, shoulders hunched as he squinted out into the brightness of the corridor, too bright after the dim seclusion of their own apartment. Neither vampire liked bright lights anymore, preferring their own home to be kept as dim and as intimate as possible. 

“I’m going down there,” Paul said, as he nodded towards the bend in the corridor. “Whoever was outside ran off. Perhaps it was a kid.”

“And you’re gonna do what to it, exactly?” Richard asked, in sudden amusement.

“Kick its arse, for being a bloody nuisance,” Paul replied, with a snort. 

“Ooohh, big scary vampire, scaring little children,” Richard said, as Paul started off down the corridor. “Such fun, much wow.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Reesh,” Paul replied, even as a laugh burst unbidden and loud from his lips. 

He hushed, suddenly mindful of those people that shared the apartment block around them; just the previous week, they’d been reprimanded for being rowdy in the corridors after coming home from a late night feed and had inadvertently woken one of the neighbours. 

The trip around the corner proved nothing; whoever it had been had gone, but a smell lingered within the confines of the small space, reminiscent of wet fur, vomit and rank meat. Paul gagged a little at the strong smell, before he turned back to re-join Richard at the apartment, nose still wrinkled in disgust. 

“What? Kid pee on your shoes?” Richard asked, in sudden amusement when he caught the expression upon Paul’s face. 

“Nah. I didn’t catch a kid for one to do even that much. I didn't catch anyone at all, for that matter,” Paul said, with a grimace.

“You sound disappointed,” Richard pointed out, as he watched the other vampire winnow past him into the hallway.

“I would love to know who was making like Hannibal Lector outside our damned doorway, wouldn’t you?” Paul asked, as he watched Richard close the door again and firmly lock it. 

That action made Paul smile. While he’d always thought that they both were strong enough to repel attack singularly, and so didn’t need to lock the door, it still served as a precaution against their continued safety during the day, when they were effectively dead; no greater amount of strength would help them should anyone wander in and decide to open the curtains at lunchtime. Neither of them could withstand that exposure and still hope to exist. Paul still found the door-locking funny, however. 

“I did smell an awful smell outside, though,” Paul continued as Richard passed him on his way back to the living room. “Like wet dog and vomit.” 

“Vomit?” Richard asked, as he cast an surprised glance over his shoulder.

“And wet dog,” Paul repeated with a nod as he followed the other vampire into the living room and joined him upon the sofa. “Between the two smells, I don’t know what’s worse.” 

“Probably some vagrant wandering around with his mangy dog,” Richard said, with a shudder. “Perhaps we should spray air freshener or something out there.”

“Nah, leave it. Perhaps it’ll annoy the neighbours, make ‘em smile for a change,” Paul said, with a laugh. 

Richard snorted dryly, even as he hefted his guitar upon his lap again. 

“Chance would be a fine thing, with the amount of moaning they do,” he murmured, as his fingers began plucking at the chords again. 

“Ignore ‘em, darling,” Paul numbered, as he rested his head back against the back of the sofa. “They’re only jealous.” 

Richard merely nodded out his agreement, brows lowered as he began to hum, along with his strumming. Paul smiled and kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of the music, glad for the fact that Richard hadn’t yet shooed him out of the room. Sometimes, Richard liked his privacy, whilst at other times, he seemed to welcome Paul’s presence while he was composing. 

“What d’you think?” Richard asked, as he paused halfway through the second repetition of his tune.

“Nice,” Paul said, with a nod. “Rammstein or Emigrate?”

He poked his tongue out a little after mentioning Richard’s other band, an expression which the other vampire duly ignored. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Richard said, with a shrug. “If you think it’s good enough, I might take it to Till, to see if he can come up with something suitably dark and twisted for the lyrics.”

“Let me listen to it again,” Paul said, as he cast a serious frown down at Richard's hands upon his guitar. 

Richard nodded and began playing again, adding a little of the melody hummed over the chord progressions. Paul nodded again, before he waggled his fingers for Richard to hand over his guitar.

“What?” Richard asked, curiously, as he gave his lover the guitar.

“Maybe if you tried something like this, it’ll sound better, and have a more natural flow to it,” Paul said, as he repeated one of the phrases that Richard had played to him, beofre he added an additional augmented chord for added colour.

Richard's eyebrows lifted in appreciative surprise, before he nodded.

“That might just work. Thanks, Paulchen. Play that to me again, just to make sure I've got it,” he said.

Paul smiled and did as his lover had asked; Richard nodded again, once Paul had finished playing.

“I like that,” Richard said, as he reached out to take the guitar from Paul. “Let me try.” 

Paul nodded and allowed his lover to take the guitar from him; he watched and smiled when Richard added the additional chord in with his previous ones. He nodded, grinned, and accepted the kiss that Richard propped upon his lips.

“Thanks, lover,” Richard said, as he turned his attentions back to the guitar again. 

“When are you going to play that to Till?” Paul asked, as he nodded towards the guitar. 

“I dunno, maybe by the end of the end of the week or tomorrow, if he‘ll have us round. Whenever we can pop round,“ Richard said, with a one-shouldered shrug. “Need to perfect it a little more first though.” 

Paul nodded, but didn’t say anything; he knew his lover’s predilections for obsessing over his music, and so, knew better than to interrupt when Richard returned to his work. In time, when he grew bored of sitting and watching and listening, he stood and busied himself about the apartment, distracting himself with the much hated task of cleaning the bathroom. He still was cleaning and bustling around the apartment, when the phone rang. He picked it up, so that Richard wouldn’t have to, and was surprised to hear Olli’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey, Olli, are you alright?” he asked, with a smile that warmed his voice. 

“Hi, Paul. I think so,” Olli said. “Listen, can you and Richard pop round tonight? Are you free?” 

“Um, I dunno. Reesh is composing, and possibly recording, at the moment; I don’t want to disturb him,” Paul said. “You know what he’s like when he’s on a roll.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Olli said, and he sounded genuinely disappointed at the news. 

“Why? Is something wrong?” Paul asked, alarmed by the tone of his friend’s voice. 

“Oh, I just had something to show you,” Olli said and Paul could imagine the shrug that accompanied his friend's statement.

“What kind of something?” Paul asked.

“Photographs,” Olli said, but didn’t say more than that. 

“Oh? They’re not ... you know, pornographic, ones, are they?” Paul asked, slyly. “Must only be seen under the light of the moon, or something?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Olli asked, in sudden surprise. 

“Okay, so it’s not pornographic photos. You do disappoint me, Olli,” Paul said, with a sudden teasing laugh.

“I ... don’t know what to say to that, Paul,” Olli admitted, in disgust.

“Hush, say nothing. What are these photographs, anyway?” Paul asked, genuinely interested now, despite his teasing. “If not incredibly sexy ones.” 

“I think it’s best if you saw them for yourself,” Olli replied.

“Oh, so these are definitely for Richard's consumption, as well, are they?” Paul asked, still teasing.

“I wish you’d take this seriously,” Olli said, a little peevishly.

“Oh, come on, I’m bored. I’ve been doing the cleaning. I need a little light relief,” Paul told him.

“Oh,” Olli said, in surprise.

“You sound surprised, Olli,” Paul pointed out.

“I didn’t know vampires did the cleaning,” Olli said, sounding embarrassed by his own admission. 

“Well, we can’t live in filth, Olli,” Paul said, with a laugh. “And you know what Richard’s like with his clothing. Must be presentably neat at all times. Plus the sheets need to be kept clean.”

“Yeah, enough, Paul,” Olli said, in sudden alarmed disgust. “It’s getting too personal, now. I get it; you’re still just like us.” 

Paul laughed at that, before he said - “Glad you think so. So, can we come round tomorrow to see these mysterious photographs? We might be going to Till’s anyway, I think, if he'll have us round. We can pop in, then, if you like.” 

“Maybe not tomorrow,” Olli said and his tone had turned suddenly embarrassed, almost evasive. “I’ve got a date.” 

“Oh? Anyone nice?” Paul asked.

“No, she’s a bloody green ogre, like Princess Fiona,” Olli said, with a snort. “Of course, she’s nice.” 

“I wouldn’t expect any less of you,” Paul assured, him, with a laugh. “Well, I hope you have a lovely night; we’ll see you the night afterwards, then. That suit you?”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Olli said. “I think you'll be very interested in this.” 

“Sounds intriguing. See you then,” Paul said.

Olli repeated the salutations and Paul put the phone down. He turned and saw that Richard had stopped what he was doing whilst he was on the phone, and had poked his head out of the now open door, to stare curiously at him. 

“What’s all this about pornographic photos?” Richard asked.

Paul sighed, before he said - “Trust you to pick up on that part of the conversation.” 

Richard grinned and waited whilst Paul re-joined him in the living room, before the smaller vampire filled him in on the baffling phone call.

****


	5. Chapter 5

By the following evening, Richard had recorded a rough draught of the composition that Paul had helped him with, ready for Till's perusal. Just to make sure, they rang ahead, to ensure that Till would be able to receive them, and wasn’t already busy, and to ensure that he was, actually, at home. Paul waited by the doorway whilst the other vampire made the call, and Richard nodded sharply at him, once the call was ended.

“All systems go,” Richard confirmed with a slight grin. 

“Good,” Paul said, with a nod of his own, before he pulled his coat from the coat rack by the door. “I suppose it’s best to check, beforehand.”

“Hmm-hmmm,” Richard said, with a nod, and patted his pocket to make sure that the flash drive, containing the files that he needed, was safely in his jeans pocket.

“You’ve checked that a dozen and one times already,” Paul observed, with long-suffering amusement in his tone.

Richard didn’t take any notice, merely patted his pocket one more time for good luck, before he pulled on his own coat. Paul huffed but remained silent that time, and swung open their front door, before he stepped out into the corridor outside; Richard was almost through the door, when the phone rang.

“Leave it,” Paul said, when he sensed that the other vampire was going to go back in and answer it. “I know it might be one of the others, before you start; I’m starving, I want someone to eat and whoever it is can wait a while. Besides, if it was one of the others, they‘d be ringing on one of our mobiles in no time, anyway. It‘s probably just a canvasser.” 

Richard nodded, and Paul noticed that he don't look happy about agreeing. Still, he sighed and waited, whilst Richard lingered in the doorway, waiting for the answer-phone to pick up the message. When Paul’s recorded, cheerful voice told the caller to leave their message after the beep, they both heard a voice, deep and dark and husky speaking just two words before hanging up. 

_‘I’m coming.’_ the voice said. 

“Bloody sounds like it,” Paul said, with a laugh, before he pulled his best orgasm face when Richard looked surprised askance at him. 

Richard’s laughter was sudden and joyful, eyes crinkling closed in his mirth. Paul reached out and gently shoved the other vampire against one broad shoulder, before he nodded towards the door, purposefully.

“It’s probably just a prank call, sweetheart,” he said. “Come on, I’m getting desperate and hungry here. I want my dinner.” 

Richard grunted and nodded; Paul waited whilst Richard went through the motions of locking the door and checking it, before the vampires nodded to one another and made their way down the corridor, down the stairs and out into the street. 

Outside, it was raining still, and the air was cold and damp against their skin. Richard sighed in disgust at the persistent rain, puddles forming great reflective swathes against the curbs, sloshing with the passage of passing vehicles, so that each puddle threatened to empty their entire contents upon the bottoms of their trousers and across heavy boots alike. Paul seemed not to notice the discomfort and instead waited for Richard to push up their umbrella, before he nestled in beneath it, to link his arm with his lover’s and they paraded down the street, heads bent close as they chatted quietly. Occasionally, Paul would smile, and even rarer still would lean in to steal kisses from Richard's amused mouth. 

Richard always enjoyed those times, the quiet times, when they had little else to do but walk, and to talk, and forget that there was anyone else but themselves, lost to one another and their own private little world. He sighed in contentment, as they made their usual trek across Berlin, finally ending up in the Tiergarten, ready to start their evening hunt. 

Whilst the rain had stopped by the time that they walked beneath the arching confines of Brandenburger Tor, the air was still damp and held the promise of yet more rain to come; the early evening newscast’s promise of flash flooding seemed more and more likely as the rainy nights went on. They sloshed their way through the puddles that littered the grounds of the Tiergarten, and avoided the lightest covering of branches, where fat droplets danced and swayed on newly budding leaves, green and unfurled yet still waiting to pounce with wet bombs of rain like unshed tears. They stuck to the heavier branches, where the rain couldn’t penetrate, and the privacy was more determined; they found lone lovers, stealing private moments beneath the thickest of the trees; it looked as though they'd only just finished making love, air redolent with the heavy scents of sex and spent lust. 

Richard's nostrils flared and the extra sexual charge lent added spice to his feeding, fangs and tongue eager against pliant flesh as he fed, hands grasping against sated human flesh; he could taste the lust in the blood and he pulled away with an effort, sent the human stumbling and crashing away when he was fearful of taking too much. Paul, it seemed, had much the same trouble in sending his own victim away, eyes dilated as he stared helplessly at Richard, mouth and fangs still stained with the blood that he’d drunk. Richard nodded, chest heaving, dick pressed hard to the front of his trousers in an obvious bulge; he could see that Paul, too, was fully erect. Richard hooked one finger at his lover, and grinned, before they made their way to a secluded corner, where they were effectively shielded from view by a stand of trees, boughs hanging low enough to hide behind.

Richard pushed Paul up against the rough bark of the nearest trunk, mouth attached firmly against his lover’s mouth in a bruising kiss; his hand fumbled against the front of Paul's trousers, but he couldn’t get the zipper down, fingers too clumsy and awkward in his haste to do much except stutter. He contented himself by pressing his palm flat against Paul’s erection instead, and rubbing him harshly beneath the covering of heavy cotton; the groans that Paul spilled into his mouth were low and dirty and needy, as the other vampire began to thrust mindlessly against Richard's seeking palm. 

Richard eased his hand away and trapped Paul still further against the tree, hips against hips, groin against groin and he began to thrust, to rub his clothed erection against Paul’s own and Paul cried out, pleasure and rapture and arousal heavy in his voice and upon his skin. Richard continued thrusting, hands trapping against Paul’s hips as the other vampire met him thrust for thrust, curses falling from their mouths as they reached climax together, movements harsh and punishing and relief-filled. Richard rested his forehead against Paul’s shoulder with a groan, as Paul wrapped eager arms around him, pressed kisses against his cheek and neck, before one hand travelled down and cupped Richard’s butt and squeezed and massaged him.

“Fuck,” Richard said, wanting to make love to Paul again and properly that time. 

“Later,” Paul murmured. “When we get home.”

“Can’t wait that long, Paulchen,” Richard complained. “I want you now.” 

“You’ve had me,” Paul laughed, but there was teasing in his tone and eyes.

“Want to fuck you properly,” Richard amended. 

“You will. Soon. Later,” Paul said, with a smile. “Incorrigible bastard.” 

“You drive me crazy. It’s your fault,” Richard moaned. 

“That’s a good thing to be blamed for, I’m sure,” Paul laughed, before he pressed kisses against Richard’s mouth again. “Be patient, child, and you shall have me, for as long as you want.”

“Hmmm, fuck,” Richard said, as he nuzzled against Paul again. 

“Later, I said,' Paul said, as he rubbed his nose against Richard’s in an Eskimo kiss.

Richard sighed and closed his mouth over Paul’s in another warm kiss.

****


	6. Chapter 6

By the time they’d eventually reached Till’s, their ardour had worn away a little, yet their underwear still felt a little uncomfortable. They hadn’t had time to change it. Till raised his eyebrows at them, still, when he opened the door, even as Richard and Paul grinned at him, both feeling like naughty schoolboys trying too hard to be innocent. 

“You’re late,” Till said, as he gestured for them to come inside. “And you’re invited.”

“You don't have to keep inviting us in, you know,” Richard reminded him, with an irritated sigh. “We only need one invitation, and you've already given us that.” 

“Ah. Right you are, but you’re still late. I was ready to give up and go to bed,” Till groused, as he led them through to his office. “Unlike some people round here, I have to get to sleep at a decent hour sometimes.”

Richard was glad that Till hadn’t said anything regarding the fact that they were no longer people, as he once would have done. 

“I thought you’d got accosted by monsters or something,” Till continued. 

“Nah, no monsters,” Paul said. “Just a vampire.” 

“Again?” Till asked, even as Paul pointed at Richard with a grin. “Oh. Like that, is it?”

Till’s grin, when it came, was whip-sharp and lewd. Richard merely frowned, not amused by the turn of the conversation. 

“At least your love life’s healthy at the moment,” Till grumbled as he led the vampires through to the office. “Sometimes, I can’t even catch a break.” 

“You’ll get there, in the end,” Paul said, as he smiled at Richard. “I didn‘t think I‘d ever settle down, yet I did, and happily.” 

Richard huffed in embarrassed pleasure and slid his arms around Paul, nuzzling his lover’s head gently.

“Fucking hell, get a room, already,” Till grumbled, when he saw them. “Oh, you did that already, last Christmas. I still haven't forgotten you used my spare room to fuck in, you know.” 

“And you did offer that room to us,” Paul reminded him, quietly, trying not to think of revenants and of all that had happened during Till's party.

“Whilst drunk,” Till offered, but by the look in his eyes, and his vague and habitual smirk, the vampires could tell that he was only teasing. “Are you looking forward to the premiere next week, anyway? Just to randomly change the subject, you know.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Richard said, with a shrug. “Just glad that it's in the evening so that we can actually, you know, turn up.” 

“Hmm,” Till said, with a nod of agreement, as he turned the laptop on. “Oh, by the way, talking of vampires and everything earlier, reminds me that I saw Bob Adams the other day.”

“Bob? In Berlin?” Richard asked in surprise. 

“Yeah,” Till replied, sitting down in his chair with a groan.

By the way that he lightly massaged his knee, the vampires could tell that it was bothering him again, probably induced by the rain and continuing bad weather. Till didn’t say anything, however, about it; instead, he merely continued talking of their former producer. 

“I was gonna catch up with him, both literally and figuratively, but I didn’t think his reception would be all that welcoming,” Till said, with a brief, and humourless, smile. “I mean, he did have to kill his brother because of us.” 

“Hmm, good point,” Paul said, with a grimace. 

“I wonder what he wants here? Berlin’s a long way from home for him, isn’t it?” Richard asked, still frowning, as he thought of the studio complex that Bob owned, with his family, in Bezau.

“Who knows? If any of us should see him again, perhaps we should accost him, or something,” Paul replied, with a shrug. “Just to see what he wants.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Till snorted, as he leant back in his chair to stare at them both. 

“Why? Ridiculous?” Paul spluttered. 

“He's allowed to come to Berlin if he wants, isn’t he?” Till asked, with a snort of dry laughter. “It’s a free world. In a sense, if you believe that kind of crap.” 

“Yeah, but still. It's a bit odd, isn’t it?” Richard asked, backing up his lover’s statement without prompting or hesitation. 

“Maybe so, but again, I think he’s allowed to go where he pleases,” Till pointed out. “Perhaps he’s on holiday and just wanted to come to Berlin. Perhaps he’s coming to the premiere next week; you ever think of that?” 

“Oh, yeah, I suppose,” Paul conceded, but he still didn’t look entirely convinced. 

Richard didn’t think he was convinced either, yet Till had seemed to have grown bored of the subject and demanded, more than asked, to hear the new song that the vampires had brought with them. Richard gave the vocalist the flash drive from his pocket, and watched whilst Till opened the files upon his laptop. He listened, nodding occasionally at the piece of music that Richard and Paul had created. Once it had finished, Till leant back in his seat hard enough so that the plastic and the frame of it creaked beneath the sudden shifting transference of his weight, before he propped his hands behind his head and stared at the guitarists.

“This is good, guys. I think I might be able to write something to go with this. Leave this with me for now,” he said. “I might have to ask you to tweak it a little, if I can’t get the words to flow right. You know how it goes, by now.”

Richard grunted and nodded, but predictably didn’t look happy about it. Paul sighed; he knew how much Richard hated to give complete control of his workmanship over to someone else, despite the fact that he should have been used to it by now. Even so, he knew that the other vampire was not as bad as he’d once been; he’d evolved and changed in much the same way they’d all had to. 

“Have any of the others heard this yet?” Till asked, next, when neither vampire spoke.

“Not yet,” Paul admitted. “We've got copies of this at home, though; we can always drop them round to the others, I suppose, when we get the chance.” 

Till grunted, and nodded, yet his eyes had taken on that faraway look that they always did when he was ruminating over something particularly creative. 

“Well, we’ll leave you to it, then,” Richard said, with a smile, as he, too, caught the intense look in the other man’s eyes. 

Till nodded, but it almost was as though he hadn’t quite heard, and he certainly didn’t react when the vampires padded out of the apartment on near-silent feet, leaving him alone with the files and his own thoughts for the night.

****


	7. Chapter 7

Richard and Paul called in at Olli’s apartment after they’d left Till’s, and the bassist showed them through to his living room, where his computer glowed in the corner, monitor displaying a folder filled with thumbnails. The vampires followed him over to it and crowded round the desk, whilst Olli took the only seat, and enlarged one of the thumbnails. 

On the screen, was a photo that had obviously been taken with a camera’s night mode. Beneath the trees that framed the edges of the photo was a dark shape, too large and too hunched to be even the largest of dogs. Richard leant in and squinted at the screen, brows pulled down low over confused blue eyes. 

“What the hell is that?” he asked. “It almost looks like a bear.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Olli said, with a shrug. “I wondered if one had escaped from the Zoologischer Garten. I haven’t heard anything about it though, in the news; if one had broken out, it would have made the main headlines, at least, surely.”

“I‘m sure it would, too,” Paul agreed, as he looked to Richard, who merely shrugged and nodded silently. 

Olli nodded, as well, even as he continued to stare at the computer screen. 

“What are we gonna do with this?” Richard asked, as he gestured towards the screen. “We’ve gotta do something, surely.”

“Like what exactly? It’s too grainy and blurry to do much of anything with. I’d probably be accused of scare-mongering or lying or fiddling around with Photoshop or something. I’d say do nothing, probably,” Olli said. “At least not yet. No one seems to be panicking. It probably is only an abnormal dog or something, after all. Either that or it's a werewolf.”

“Hah! Werewolf,” Paul said, but despite his laugh, he still frowned. 

“What?” Olli asked, as he caught a hold of his friend’s expression.

The vampires then told him of the noises they’d heard outside their apartment, a few nights before, and the scent of wet dog that they’d smelt hanging in the air of their corridor. 

“Perhaps it really is a werewolf,” Olli said, with a suddenly excited grin. “I mean you guys exist, why not werewolves, too?” 

“That’s exactly what we said the other night,” Paul said, with a nod, but he didn’t smile. "I suppose that if it really was a werewolf, we would have come across it, or them, by now, surely. It's a bit of an obvious assumption to make, though, isn't it? See a large animal and say - oh, werewolf!"

“I suppose. But don’t you think that’d be cool though?” Olli asked. “If there were werewolves?”

“I suppose” Richard said. “Just so long as they don’t impose on our territory.” 

Olli turned to raise eyebrows at Richard in surprise.

“It always surprises me whenever you come across as being territorial,” he said, his tone as amused as his expression suddenly was. "I would never think it of you." 

“Yeah, we are; very much so. Things have changed though, now, ahven't they?” Richard asked, with a snort. “I, for one, have a lot to defend, and it isn‘t just merely the right to hunt.”

He looked to Paul then, and Paul smiled, gently, knowing what Richard meant.

“You really think they’d try to fight you for Paul?” Olli asked, a little skeptically. "I mean, no offense, Paul."

"None taken," Paul murmured, with a vague smile. 

“Don‘t sound so surprised; they might. They might think it the best way to cripple me, by harming Paul in some way, and they’d be right. And if it comes down to a fight, I fucking will,” Richard said, and his expression was deathly serious. "I mean, I've done it, before. I'm sure Paul would do the same in my place; it'd be the same situation for him as it would for me."

He didn't have to mention their recent run-in with the mute vampire, The Hungry Ghost. Olli nodded, but didn't offer comment. Paul's only response was to kiss Richard on the end of his nose. Olli made a mock-disgusted noise, but the smile he gave Paul was a little wistful. Paul’s only response was to grin and to nod in corroboration. 

“Have you got anything else to show us there, anyway?” Richard asked, changing the subject as he gestured towards the screen again.

“Not really; this is the best shot that I took, such as it is,” Olli said, as he scrolled through the rest of the exposures taken in the Tiergarten. 

The vampires could see what he meant; each shot was as blurry and as hastily taken as the one before, yet still, in each, the blurred figure beneath the trees was hulking and ominously beastly. Eventually, after growing tired of staring at the photographs and coming up with no explanation for what the shape could be other than the vague assumptions already posited, Richard and Paul left the yawning, tired Olli to his bed and imminent sleep; the vampires went from his apartment back to their own, where they spent the rest of the night engaged in writing music together.

****

Flake yawned his way out of his apartment doorway, cat winding its way around his ankles. His only thought was to check his step for errant milk bottles, hoping to put some fresh upon his morning cereals. The first clue that he had something other than milk on his doorstep was the sudden alarmed, screeching yowl that the cat made as soon as the door opened, flash of streaking fur brushing past Flake’s ankles as the pet made its way inside again. 

Flake then had the sense of something large and humping laying on his doorstep, followed swiftly by an awful smell. He rubbed his eyes, slid his glasses back on and almost gagged upon the thick and putrid smell of blood hanging in the air on his next breath. The next thing he became aware of was the sound of flies, just beginning to swarm; he looked down and saw that there was definitely something more than just milk upon his doorstep.

****


	8. Chapter 8

Flake settled down in the recesses of Richard and Paul’s sofa with a sigh, lanky body all but disappearing within its soft and voluminous folds. He frowned and shifted, denim clad butt producing squeaking sounds on the soft and pliant leather. 

“You could disappear in this shit and not be seen for a week,” he said, with a frown.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” Paul observed, as he settled in the armchair across from the keyboardist. 

“I can’t decide,” Flake said, gloomily. “It could be like a Venus Fly Trap for vampires. A Vampire Fly Trap.” 

“A Vampire Human Trap, I think you mean,” Paul returned with a smile, even as Richard wandered through from the bedroom. 

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about in here?” Richard asked, in sudden alarm as he caught the tail end of Paul’s comment. 

“Flake thinks we deliberately trap humans in our sofa so we can feed from ‘em later on,” Paul said, before Flake could. 

“Shush, he wasn’t supposed to know about that,” Richard said, as he perched upon the arm of Paul’s armchair, one hand resting upon his lover’s shoulder. 

“Seriously?” Flake asked, as he began to struggle out of his comfortable seat. 

“Sit down, you tit, he didn’t mean it,” Paul said, as laughter bubbled from the environs of his chest. 

“Or did I?” Richard asked, as he waggled his eyebrows at Paul. “It isn’t a bad idea, actually, y’know, Paulchen. Flake sometimes comes up with really good ideas.” 

"Sometimes?" Flake balked, in disbelief.

“You’re not helping, Reesh,” Paul said, as he pinched Richard's thigh viciously.

“Fuck you,” Richard retorted, even as he laughed. “I’ll have you know that really hurt.”

“Good,” Paul said, as he turned his gaze back to the watchful Flake. “It was meant to.” 

Paul was glad to see that the keyboardist looked a little amused by their playful bickering, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth unbidden.

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell us, Flake?” Paul asked. “We swear we’re not gonna eat you or anything.”

“Oh, nothing much, I suppose. Just some nutter left a rotting corpse outside my front door and scared the damned cat,” Flake grumbled. “I wondered if you two knew anything about that.”

“What, about scaring cats or the rotting corpse?” Paul asked, before he could stop himself.

“The corpse,” Flake said, in distaste. “Obviously. I know you scare cats, already, you bloody monsters.” 

“No, neither of us know about the corpse,” Richard said, with a frown, as he ignored Flake‘s acerbic comments about cat-scaring. “We didn’t leave it there, if that’s what you’re wondering. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not in the habit of leaving dead bodies outside people’s front doorways, let alone one that’s outside a flat on a busy street. People might see.” 

“Hmm, I suppose you‘ve got a point,” Flake said, but he looked baffled still. “Just seems an odd thing to trip over, literally. Not your expected thing.”

“When was this, anyway?” Paul asked, curiously. “And more importantly, what type of body was it? Human?” 

“Deer, if you can believe it,” Flake replied. “And I found it there, early this morning, beside my pint of milk. Of course, I reported it to the landlord, who then reported it to the police, and now I have all kinds of investigations going on right on my very doorstep.” 

His face became a portrait in disgust and discomfort; Flake had never been one to be fond of the police or anyone in authority, for that matter. 

“Well, all we can say is that we know nothing of it. We were actually at Till’s and Olli’s apartments, until late last night,” Paul pointed out. “Richard had something to show Till and Olli had something to show us.”

Flake’s eyebrows suddenly raised sharply and an impish grin played at the corners of his mouth, seemingly unbidden.

“Nothing like what you‘re obviously thinking,” Richard said, immediately despite his laughter. “Paul’s my only sweetheart, you know that. We were showing Till some music. New riffs and whatnot. He’s in the process of writing new lyrics, while we speak.” 

“Oh? Well, that’s cool,” Flake said, with a shrug. “Any clue as to when the rest of us will get a look in?” 

“Oh, you know Till. Anything from a few days to a few weeks, dependent on how swiftly the words flow,” Paul replied, with a shrug. “I’m sure you guys will thrash it out during the daytime.” 

“Hmm,” Flake said. “Well, I’m sure one or other of us will keep you in the loop if that does happen. Seeing as you’re ... sleeping throughout the day.”

Paul smiled beautifully at that, glad for the fact that Flake had chosen the word sleeping and nothing else. 

“And what was Olli showing you?” Flake asked, next. “You said something about that, I think, but not exactly what.”

Paul and Richard filled Flake in on the photographs that Olli had shown them, yet the keyboardist had no insight either as to what the figure in the photos could be. 

“Perhaps you should ask Olli to show you them, himself,” Paul suggested. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that, the next time I see him,” Flake said, with a shrug. “I can’t exactly just specially drop in and demand that he show me his photographs, without invitation, I guess.” 

Richard and Paul laughed, even as they nodded out their agreement with his observation. The conversation then turned from photographs back to the sofa again, as Flake asked them where they’d bought it; Paul told him that it was a recent purchase from IKEA, after finding the sofa at Olli’s apartment just as soft and comfortable.

****

A few days later, Richard awoke, with a languid stretch, senses still a little muddled from his day long sleep. He snuggled down beneath the covers again, content to remain there until Paul woke; that evening, it seemed as though Paul was going to take longer before he slipped from the sleep of the dead into full wakefulness once more. They'd spent the day in their old bed in the spare room, deeming the coffins they kept in the main room too uncomfortable to make love in. 

 

The other vampire’s face was creased into an intense frown, lips puckered into a soft and kissable little pout that Richard couldn’t help but lean in and kiss, feeling the soft pliancy of his lover’s mouth against his own and the hardness of the fangs hiding behind. He kissed him again, felt the quickening of life beginning in his lover’s body and he deepened the kiss, unable to stop doing so now that he’d started; he felt a sudden sharp bite to his lower lip, sharp enough to draw blood and Richard drew away with a loud, pained cry, tongue immediately lapping out to sweep away beadlets of blood from his mouth. Paul was staring at him in sudden shock, large hand reaching out immediately to draw Richard back again, mouth closing against Richard's own in a little, apologetic kiss. 

“Es tut mir leid, liebling,” Paul murmured, against Richard’s mouth as he kissed him again. “I was dreaming, horrible dreams.” 

Richard didn’t reply, merely huffed out a note of acceptance as he returned to kissing his lover once more, feeling the first stirrings of arousal working its hot way through his body. He opened his mouth and teased his tongue along the seam of Paul's lips, and swept across them again until Paul opened up for him, a contented purr leaking past his mouth as he did so. Paul whisked away with a sudden quicksilver grin, there and gone in an instant, only to return, holding a flimsy silken scarf.

“What - “ Richard began but Paul shushed him, as he straddled Richard where he still lay in bed. 

“Lay still and just feel,” he said, with a smile. “This is my anniversary gift to you.”

Richard laughed at that, remembering what Paul had said a few nights beforehand, of celebrating their one year anniversary of being vampires. He lifted his hands above his head, expecting his lover to tie his wrists to the bed-frame, yet he was surprised when Paul, instead, slipped the scarf across his eyes, and encouraged him to lift his head; when Richard did, Paul's hands awkwardly knotted the scarf behind Richard’s head, effectively cutting off the vampire’s sight. Richard made an approving noise, as he felt Paul’s warm, wet mouth working its way down his body, nipping and sucking and licking and biting at Richard's flesh, until Richard was a panting, heaving mess, Paul’s mouth now upon his cock. Richard's moans were loud and ragged, and he saw nothing, only felt the sensations of Paul’s lips against him, the soft laves of the other vampire’s tongue, the motions of his mouth slow and teasing up and down the length of his cock.

“Paul,” Richard moaned and his voice was so deep, so dark, he didn’t even recognise it as belonging to himself any more. “Paul, please.” 

He wasn’t quite sure what he was begging for, but he was begging for something, be it release, or more, or merely Paul himself, or perhaps a combination of all three. He felt Paul’s mouth almost pull off and away from his length, lips forming a soft ‘o’ around the head of his cock as Paul lightly suckled and teased him, before plunging down mere moments before Richard spilled out with a great and whooshing breath, hips arching up from the bed as Paul sucked him clean, swallowing everything that Richard gave him. 

Richard was still reeling by the time that Paul gently coaxed him onto his stomach, pillows forming a soft barrier between Richard’s body and the bed, before he left him again, to return with what sounded like the lube, judging by the uncapping sound that Richard heard next. His patience was rewarded by the slick cold wet feel of Paul's finger against his entrance, before Paul eased his way inside, to stretch and to tease and to prepare him for all that was to come. Richard sighed and shuddered against Paul's ministrations, pleasured sounds leaking past his lips as Paul continued to prepare him, hand soon easing away to be replied by the thicker feel of his cock, as the other vampire guided himself inside Richard. 

Still Richard could not see, but he could hear, he could feel, he experienced everything tenfold more than he would with his eyes bared. He could hear the aroused groans that leaked past Paul’s lips, hear the need and the arousal in those small sounds, and feel the echoing motions with every thrust, every grind, every twist of hands against willing waiting flesh. Paul was thrusting hard and fast by the time that he came, hips and body shuddering with pleasure against Richard's as he climaxed; Richard heard the utter need in his lover’s voice, the sheer want and love and he came again, although his climax was dry and weak in comparison with his first. 

Paul left him when it was over, to return with a damp cloth; Richard could feel the soft wet sweep of it against his body as Paul administered to him, every movement slow and loving and thoughtful, as though Paul was worshipping him still. Richard was glad for the fact that he was laughingly permitted to touch Paul’s body, to run hands across Paul’s naked flesh, to admire him with his hands and the sheer gentleness of his touch even though Richard could not see him still.

“I love you,” Richard said, wondrously and heard a sudden, dark chuckle from his lover.

A swift, hard kiss was placed against his mouth, hard enough to bruise the flesh of his lips, before Paul drew away far enough to whisper an - _I love you, too, mein Schatz_ \- against his mouth. Richard sighed, and he purred and he arched up into Paul’s touch as the other vampire continued to pet him and stroke him, to ease Richard down from his sated highs. Finally, finally, Richard was rewarded by the removal of the blindfold, to see that Paul was smiling down at him, looking well-fucked, sated and happy. 

“God, you're gorgeous,” Richard said, in a rush.

“I know, darling, I know,” Paul said, as he settled against Richard, body curling instinctively around that of Richard’s. 

Paul purred, eyes closing and lips curling into a contented smile, reminding Richard ever more of a contented cat. He reached up and stroked his hand against Paul's head, smoothing down the stray hair that stuck up in odd clumps and bunches, and Paul's smile grew wider, yet his eyes did not open; instead, he pushed his head against Richard's palm and Richard would have been surprised if Paul didn’t purr outright at the contact. Paul, like Richard, was now an incorrigible pleasure-seeker; Richard guessed that it was the vampire in him and Richard liked the change in Paul. He thought it suited him. He leant in and pressed an open mouthed kiss against Paul’s mouth, and was rewarded by the dance of Paul’s tongue alongside his own, licking languid stripes inside his mouth. They remained like that for a while, kisses heated yet slow and unhurried, hands touching and sweeping in languid caresses that promised dark things, secret things, that only they would be privy to. 

Aren’t we forgetting something?” Paul asked, as Richard reached between them to take Paul in hand, fingers sweeping slowly along Paul’s length as the other vampire began to quicken into life again. 

“No,” Richard said, as he continued stroking his lover, fingers moving faster now.

“The premiere,” Paul panted out, even as his hips began to move, and he thrust his cock into the circle of Richard’s stroking fingers. “It is tonight, don’t forget.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Richard said, as he spurted away from Paul, leaving Paul half-hard and achingly aroused. 

“Fuck you,” Paul said, immediately, as Richard wriggled around the room in his search for the perfect outfit. “You can’t leave me high and dry like this.”

“Well, either you want me to fuck you or you want to be actually on time for the premiere, Paul,” Richard pointed out.

Paul cursed and made his way awkwardly out of the bed, still erect. Richard leered at him, gaze lingering upon Paul’s erection as the other vampire began moving awkwardly around the room, collecting his own clothing. Richard came up behind him with a sigh, and slid his arms around Paul’s waist. Paul almost shrugged him off until he felt the soft press of Richard’s mouth leaving chuffing, apologetic kisses against his shoulder, and the soft wrap of Richard’s fingers around his aching cock. Paul sighed into the contact, eyes closing as Richard began to stroke him again, ran fingers up and down his length, free hand cupping Paul’s balls and slowly massaging them as he touched him. Paul lifted one hand and rested it against the back of Richard’s neck, hips moving in time with the other vampire’s hands, cries falling thickly from his lips as he climaxed hard beneath Richard's ministrations. Richard sank fangs into Paul’s neck and began to greedily suck at him as he thrust his own erection against the crease of Paul's arse, holding him in place with hands and fangs until Paul felt the spill of Richard’s release across his butt and the back of his legs. 

From there, they made their way into the bathroom, where they showered together, but they did little more than kiss and snuggle beneath the warm waters, too well-fucked to do any more that night. They left the apartment in a hurry, and barely had the time for a proper feed before they arrived at the Kino International, bright-cheeked and glowing from their feed, grins decorating their faces when they saw the rest of the band impatiently waiting for them.

“Oh look here, the gay vampires have arrived,” Schneider said, but his irritation was feigned.

His eyes were wide with his relief and the wide and happy grin that he gave them ruined the effects of his mock-anger. Flake grumbled away to himself about lazy late vampires, who couldn't tell the time, whilst Olli merely grinned happily at them and nodded. Only Till gave them an appraising once over and nodded at their outfits, as though approving them for the evening. 

From there they trooped inside; they stationed themselves at the back of the Kino International, watching the reactions of the crowds, as they drank in the scenes that played out across the screen, writ large in glowing colours, larger than life. Judging from the reactions of the crowd, the majority seemed to enjoy the show, laughing and cheering at the appropriate moments, and often singing along with brief snatches of music that were included on the soundtrack. Once the show was over, they were escorted to the front of the theatre, where a small row of tables had been set up, beneath where the film had been projected on the screen. The band heard the sounds of the crowds cheering and screaming over their appearance, and they smiled, bowed and waved as they took their places at the appropriate tables. From there they fielded questions about all manner of things for the next hour, and afterwards they signed books, t shirts, posters, CD‘s, even a few body parts here and there. 

It was raining again by the time that the band finally made their way outside, utilising a back door in the Kino to escape the most ardent of fans. They found themselves stepping out into an alleyway, strewn with rubbish that skittered and danced in the night breezes. The buildings were just wide enough apart to allow some of the hardiest and largest droplets to come dancing down between the brickwork, to splatter against the concrete and on the heads of the men below. 

“Well, that was fun,” Paul said, with a grin that was typical of him.

“Of course, you would think so,” Flake said, with a typically grumpy frown. “Me? I’m just glad it’s over, so I can go home.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a sour-puss,” Till said, as he slid one arm heftily about the thinner man’s shoulders. “It gets you out of the house once in a while, doesn’t it? You’d stagnate, otherwise.”

“Yeah, and turn into large pile of septic Flake,” Schneider pointed out.

“Jesus,” Flake muttered as he mooched his way faster away from the others. 

He slowed before he reached the mouth of the alleyway which led out onto Karl-Marx-Allee, before he glanced at the vampires.

“Anyone out there?” he asked. “And by anyone, I mean lurking fans.”

Richard and Paul both tilted their heads up and inhaled, nostrils flaring slightly as they scented the night breezes. They could smell the fumes of a diesel van, chugging nearby, and the various scents of other vehicles streaming down the allee, and the various scents of sweat, blood, deodorant, soap, yet even so, they could tell there was no one especially close. 

“No,” Paul said, before he caught himself short. “Wait a minute; don’t go yet, there is something.”

“Oh, let’s just chance it,” Schneider said, even as he pushed past them all and stepped out into the street.

Even the swift reactions of the vampires were not effective against preventing Schneider from being snatched and bundled into the back of the waiting van they‘d scented.

****


	9. Chapter 9

Richard and Paul didn’t hesitate; they began to run after the van that now held Schneider, which became snarled in traffic further down the road. Before they reached it, however, it managed to disentangle itself from the jam and began to head towards the Volkspark Friedrichshain. They followed as swiftly as they could, which was considerably swifter than the rest of their bandmates, vampiric abilities lending speed to their movements so that they managed to always keep the van in sight. They took several right turns, a few lefts, and they saw the van parked by one of the entrances to the Volkspark. Richard spurted forward and peered through the open gate, grateful for the fact that the park stayed open 24 hours a day. Paul lurked on the pavement a few metres behind Richard, gaze still trained upon his lover, as he waited for the rest of the band to catch up with them. Olli was the first to reach them, whilst Flake was seen to be trailing far behind, and Till even further behind him. 

“They in there?” Olli asked, as he nodded at the park, chest heaving from his exertions and words falling from his mouth in choppy bursts.

Paul nodded silently, and turned his attentions back to Richard, who’d begun to turn back to them with an aggravated, anxious expression upon his face. 

“You two go in,” Olli said, as he waved one hand in their direction. “Try and get Schneider back. I’ll wait for the others. We’ll come when we can to back you up, what little good we’ll do for the likes of you guys.”

Olli’s smile was brief, but still warm, as he shooed Paul away. Paul didn’t argue; he knew that both he and Richard would fare better in fights than any of the rest of their band, even Till. Their greater strength, faster reflexes and healing ability meant that they just were better all round. He spurted forward, and crowded in against Richard, as the other vampire stepped in, and clasped Paul against his upper arms.

“The others?” Richard asked briefly, knowing that they had little time left in which to act.

“Coming when they can,” Paul confirmed, with a short, sharp nod at his lover.

Richard didn’t speak further; instead he nodded and followed Paul into the park. They could smell the scents of late night people strolling through the grounds of the park, yet no one was using any of the swimming pools dotted about the grounds, due to the persistent rain. Paul frowned and inhaled sharply, trying to find the scent of Schneider on the air, a scent that he’d grown accustomed to over the course of twenty years. He closed his eyes, inhaled again, tried to gain that particular blend of Old Spice and lemon soap that Schneider particularly favoured that month. He caught a whiff of it on the breezes at almost the same moment as his lover did, both spurting forward at the same time and almost colliding in an unruly mass of limbs and curses. 

They extricated themselves from one another, yet only Paul was typically laughing; they bundled forward again after only a brief hesitation, Richard's hand clamped against Paul’s shoulder for extra support and steadying, before they followed the scent of Schneider, almost masked by an odder, stronger, more acrid smell, that was reminiscent of something more animalistic than human. Paul was reminded of the scent that he’d smelt in the corridor outside their apartment the week before, that odd mix of wet dog and vomit and he wrinkled his nose delicately in distaste at the reminder of it. 

They followed both scents to one of the children's playgrounds, located some way past the Große Bunkerberg, which loomed in the rain-soaked darkness, a constant monument to what once had been in Berlin. Paul couldn’t help but shudder, thoughts skittering from hidden Nazis to bombs to all that came after, thoughts dashed away by a renewed whiff of the drummer’s scent filtering past the heavy wet aroma of the rain. They burst into the playground, and saw Schneider, unconscious and stretched out upon the bottom end of a ridged ramp, that led up to an intricately carved wooden children’s play-house. Around him stood three large, hulking figures, and a much smaller one, one that looked instantly familiar to the vampires - the smaller figure was that of Bob Adams, the producer that they'd worked with the year before on their last album. 

The producer turned when he became aware of the presence of the vampires, but his face did not betray a thing when he realised just who had caught up with him. Instead, he watched their approach impassively, hooded blue eyes unblinking and almost sad. Paul and Richard stopped a few feet away from him, yet both vampires kept wary gazes trained upon the men that stood with Schneider. All three were broader through the chest and shoulders than even Richard, no massive feat by itself. Paul didn’t like their chances, suddenly, and hoped that his strength, combined with his lover’s, would be enough to repel attack. 

“Out of all of your band, I was hoping that you would come first,” Bob said, English accent making his German seemed oddly stilted. “I suppose the others are behind you.”

“Yes,” Richard answered before Paul could. “But they won’t stop me from kicking your arse. In fact, they’ll help.”

“Brave words,” Bob said, but he didn’t look particularly bothered by Richard‘s mild threat. 

“Why Schneider?” Paul asked. “Why bother taking him and not one of us? Why take any of us, for that matter?”

“It might as well have been any one of you; it didn‘t really matter to me, in the long run, which one of you dies,” Bob said, with a shrug. “It just so happens that your drummer was the first one that my friends saw.” 

He gestured towards the men behind him, who continued to look impassively on. 

“Who are they? More importantly, what are they?” Paul asked, hoping to stall both Bob and his dubious friends for long enough so that he, and Richard, would be able to save their beleaguered band-mate. “They’re not human, like you.”

“Clever boy,” Bob said, with a sudden laugh. “You have been learning in the year since I saw you last. Lads? You want to show them what you really are?” 

The three men didn’t speak, merely nodded at Bob; as one, they crouched, heads bowed, as odd grunting, groaning noises came from deep within their chests and bellies. Paul and Richard watched as they began to change, muscles and bones realigning with sickening, almighty cracks, clothes ripping and falling away in scattered shreds, to be further dampened by the rain and the puddles that had formed with the rain. They grew, larger and broader than they were in human form, fur forming and pushing through skin, until coarse brown hair covered every single last part of their bodies. Feet and hands had turned into large flat powerful paws, whilst their faces had lengthened into muzzles; the three men were large brown bears. Paul goggled in surprise; of all the things he'd expected, he hadn't once thought to expect were-bears. 

“I enlisted them, to help me, as recompense for all that I’ve lost. You know it’s been a year since I had to kill my brother?" Bob asked, conversationally. “It’s taken me a year to get over it and formulate my plan. I’ve been keeping tabs on you since then, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect chance to try and get you all in one place all at the same time, so that I can exact my revenge upon you.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Richard asked, as the rest of the band slowly began to join them.

Olli had regained his breath enough to walk without heaving, yet Flake and Till still were having trouble catching theirs; Till’s broad chest heaved with every breath, yet his eyes blazed anger, hands forming fists by his side as he stared at Bob.

“You bastard,” was all Till said to their former producer. 

“Of course,” Bob said, dryly. “After all that you’ve done, and I'm the bastard.” 

“You're crazy, you know that? You had to kill your brother, don’t you see? You said yourself last year, that he’s done this before,” Paul said, as he gestured first to Richard and then to himself. “When was it ever gonna stop? He’ll kill and kill again, and keep on going, changing without impunity. You do realise that to change people without their consent is wrong, yes?” 

“He changed you,” Bob said, as he pointed first at Richard and then at Paul.

“He saved my life,” Paul said, angrily. “He didn’t have a choice. Reesh did it out of love, not because he could, not because it was fun for him, or that he wanted to fuck with my head, which is more than could have been said about your brother.”

Bob merely shook his head, and spoke as though Paul had not said a thing. 

“The gates are mine to open, as the gates are mine to close, and I set my house in order,” said our Lady of the Snows,” Bob said. “Rudyard Kipling said that. I’m setting my house in order, now; I'm getting my pound of flesh for all that's been taken from me. Boys.”

He partially turned and gestured over his shoulder at the waiting were-bears, who began converging on the now rousing Schneider. The drummer had lifted one hand to his head, and was scrubbing weary fingers across aching eyes; as soon as he became aware of the bears sniffing at his legs and abdomen, he tried to scoot away, alarmed cries leaking past his lips as he did so, feet lashing out to keep the bears away.

****


	10. Chapter 10

Richard and Paul surged forward, strong hands gripping two of the bears by the shoulders and yanking them back; whilst the bears were strong, they were slower than the vampires, large paws and limbs lumbering and tripping, whilst the vampires were considerably lighter and quicker on their feet. 

Till and Olli surged forward to try and distract the other bear whilst the vampires were otherwise engaged, feet tripping as they tried to keep out of the way of slavering, snapping jaws and swiping paws. Richard managed to brawl his bear to the ground, strong hands twisting the neck until it broke; he left the bear laying upon the ground, as he went to help Paul. Paul did not need much help, yet Richard’s added extra strength proved to be the minor pivot that won the fight, strong vampiric pairs of hands gouging and breaking bones, until the second bear was dead. 

Bob, meanwhile, had converged on Schneider, knife held in his hand as the drummer continued to scoot up the wooden ramp, until he stood squashed inside the playhouse, broad shouldered frame stooped and hunched inside a building meant for children.

“Fuck off,” Schneider yelled through the window as Bob tried to grab his leg, to pull the drummer out by the ankle.

Schneider lashed out and caught Bob on the chin with the toe of his boot, as Flake tried to pull the producer away with both hands. Bob proved stronger than Flake, however, and pushed the keyboardist away, and to the ground. Flake skinned both elbows with a sharp cry of pain, which attracted Till’s attention. The vocalist left Olli and the vampires to deal with the remaining were-bear, to help Flake and Schneider. He picked Bob up and slammed him against the side of the playhouse, before he punched the producer across the jaw, hard enough to knock the Englishman out.

“Come out, Schneider, you look fucking ridiculous in there,” Till yelled, when he was satisfied that Bob was out for the count.

Schneider managed to wriggle free from his makeshift shelter, but it wasn’t without an effort. He dropped down to the ground as between them, Olli, Richard and Paul killed the last were-bear. Till gestured for Schneider and Flake to follow him, but didn’t bother checking to see whether they'd actually done so; instead, he strolled over to join Olli and the vampires in staring down at the last dead were-bear.

“What the hell do we do with these guys?” Till asked, as he gestured down at the dead bodies. 

“Pile them in the van and set alight to it,” Flake suggested, with some glee. 

“Flake,” Schneider said, in horror.

“What? Why not?” Flake said. “They’re already dead, anyway; it’s not like we’re blowing them up while they're still alive, or anything. After what they were going to do to you, and you‘re quibbling about destroying their corpses?” 

Schneider didn’t have a suitable response for that; instead, he opened his mouth, frowned, and closed it again without ever saying a word. Flake nodded, yet he never once lost his expression of expectant glee. 

“I’m having a hard time figuring out who’s the genuine monster, here; Paul and myself, or Flake,” Richard said, with a sudden laugh. 

“Shut up, Kruspe; you’re not as funny as you think you are,” Flake said, frowning despite the laughter that had erupted around him. 

“Monster or not, I happen to think it’s a good idea, actually. It’ll get rid of most of the evidence. Besides, if we set it up correctly, it might lead to Bob getting arrested, charged and hopefully deported,” Till said, with a grin down at the unconscious producer. “It’d save further blood-shed, at any rate; I’m assuming none of us actually wants to kill Bob, do we?” 

The glance that he bestowed upon the rest of the band was cursory and oddly bland, as though he expected one or other of them to argue otherwise. Richard and Paul immediately shook their heads.

“We’ve already made a pact not to kill anyone else,” Paul reminded Till, when Richard didn’t. “And to be honest, if you kill Bob now, you’ll be just as bad as Reesh and I are.”

He didn’t have to remind the rest of the band of the troubles they’d had the previous year, when the victims that had died beneath the weight of their hands and their fangs had returned to quite literally haunt them. Schneider merely grunted and looked down at the corpses of the were-bears.

“They don’t count, Schneider,” Olli pointed out, softly, speaking for the first time in a while. “Their deaths could be counted as self-defence.” 

“As could Bob’s, actually,” Flake countered, with a determined set to his jaw. “He was planning on killing Schneider, possibly all of us. Who knows if he’d have stopped at just him? Isn’t that why he came back? To exact vengeance on us for what we made him do to his brother?” 

“Again, good point,” Till said, and his shoulders sagged with relief with the fact that Flake had, to all intents and purposes, agreed with him. “Like Flake said, Bob’s not innocent.” 

“I don’t think I want any part of it,” Paul said, uncertainly. 

“You don’t have to,” Till said. “I’ll put Bob in the back of the van; I’ll set alight to it. I’m the bloody licensed pyrotechnician, after all.”

He cast a glance towards Richard, who merely gave him a short, sharp nod of agreement, mouth thinned down into an unhappy line across his face. Paul sighed, before he nodded too, knowing that where Till was concerned, it was better not to argue once he’d set his mind on something. 

“Besides, he’ll have time to escape if he wants to,” Till said, with a return to his previously bland expression. 

Paul grunted and didn’t argue.

“Well, that’s all settled then,” Till said, happily. “We’d best get to work, before that bastard wakes up again.” 

He kicked at Bob’s leg with the toe of his boot, and watched the Englishman's leg twitching beneath the unexpected assault.

****

Richard and Paul did most of the heavy lifting whilst shifting the bears inside the van, once they'd driven the vehicle inside the park itself. One flick of Richard’s lighter and the front seat had caught alight; the band members scurried away and watched from a safe distance as the van itself caught aflame. A few minutes later and the fuel tank exploded, sending a huge plume of fire and smoke into the air. They fled the scene, before the firefighters and the police could arrive; only Flake was aware of the fact that Till still had the van keys hidden in his pocket. Bob had had no chance to escape, even if he’d regained consciousness in time.

*****


	11. Chapter 11

Richard sighed as he made his way through their front door later that night; he shrugged out of his coat whilst Paul followed him inside, and locked the door behind them both. Paul was grinning by the time that he’d joined Richard at the coat-rack, yet it was a grin as tempered with relief as it was with mischievousness. 

“I guess it’s all over, now?” Paul asked, when Richard looked askance at him. 

“With Bob? I hope so,” Richard said, gloomily.

“I’m sure it is,” Paul said, confidently, as he led the way into the living room and flopped bodily down upon the sofa with a long and satisfied sigh.

Richard joined him, after first lifting Paul’s legs so that he could fit upon the soft and squidgy cushions too; Paul was laughing but didn’t protest the movement. Instead, he got up and changed position, so that his head nestled comfortably in Richard’s lap; the other vampire smiled and started to thread caressing fingers through the soft strands of Paul’s hair. Paul closed his eyes and pushed into the contact, sighing when Richard continued to stroke and to pet him, one hand resting comfortably against Paul’s soft abdomen. 

“I suppose one of the were-bears was what Olli managed to capture with his camera the other night,” Richard observed, voice pitched low and lazily quiet, lulled into languidness by his own petting movements. 

“I suppose,” Paul agreed, without opening his eyes. “I suppose they also left the dead deer outside Flake’s door as a warning; I suppose Bob must have found out where he lived from management, to know where to deliver it. God only knows where they even got it from. You never know; they might not have stopped there. If they hadn't swiped Schneider when they did, we each might have gotten a nice surprise on our doorsteps.” 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Richard replied, suddenly distracted as he thought of all the things that had happened over the past week. “Paulchen?”

“Hmm?” Paul asked, as he cracked one eye open to stare at Richard when his lover didn’t immediately speak. 

“D’you think it was Bob who left those weird messages on our answer-phone last week?” Richard asked. 

“I suppose it's possible,” Paul agreed, as he opened his other eye. “The fact that he didn’t ring us on our mobiles probably confirms that much; he probably got our land-line number from the same place he got Flake's address. Management, perhaps.” 

“Possible,” Richard agreed, hand stilling upon Paul’s head, although his fingers still were laced through Paul’s hair. “Till did say that he saw Bob last week, remember?” 

“Yeah,” Paul agreed. “The evidence all fits, anyway. He probably was waiting for the premiere, waiting to get us all together, like he said. The man was a nut-case, obviously. It won‘t do us any good to keep talking about him, anyway. It‘s over now. We won. Again. He didn‘t. Again. We‘re all still alive, inasmuch as any of us can be. That's all that matters, in the long run.” 

“Yeah, I suppose you‘re right,” Richard said, with a nod, before he fell silent.

He looked down, when Paul reached up to rest his hand against the back of Richard's, a clear plea in the other vampire’s face.

“Why did you stop? Continue petting me, please,” Paul said, an imperious, yet impish, smile curving his lips softly. 

Richard laughed at that, and laughed even harder, when Paul affected a mock-hurt pout at the noise. 

“Ever the sensualist, Paulchen,” Richard commented, affectionately as he began stroking Paul’s head again. 

“Of course. It feels nice,” Paul sighed, as he closed his eyes again.

“I'll tell you what else feels nice,” Richard said, and waited for Paul to open his eyes again before continuing. “Love-making.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Paul agreed, as he struggled out of the comfortable confines of Richard’s lap with an obvious, reluctant effort. “Race you to the bedroom.”

Richard groaned, even as Paul scuttled away, laughter trailing over his shoulder as he did so; as such, Paul was the first to reach the bed in the spare room, and was the first to undress, not that Richard particularly minded, however. His movements were just as swift and eager once he reached the side of the bed, pausing long enough to retrieve the lube from where they’d left it the night before, before he joined Paul in bed. Their love-making that night was slow and tender, yet still loud and satisfying, bodies joining once, twice, thrice throughout the night, and was made all the sweeter for knowing that they all still were alive, and safe again, for the time being.

As the morning came to deaden their ardour for the day ahead, Paul smiled as peace settled over them both; he only hoped that that peace would last and not prove to be a temporary measure. They deserved some quietude, he knew, yet he had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't get it; although Bob was out of their lives for good, there would always be someone, or something, else making a nuisance of themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this instalment of Ramm-pires in Berlin. As always, thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos; it is, as ever, much appreciated, welcomed and encouraged! 
> 
> There will be more in this series, so keep those eyes peeled for that, I tell thee.


End file.
